Blood
by Haitus80
Summary: My entry for the Writer's Challenge, A Brother's Grief. I loved the idea for this challenge simply because I think a lot of people have lost site of who these character really are at their core. Deep, traumatized, scarred... There was a reason we fell in love with the characters and it had nothing to do with smut. So, they have genitalia. It's been established. They go beyond that.


**Hello strangers! I had to pack up my laptop and trudge through the rain to get to a decent internet signal. I was so excited about this challenge and couldn't wait to post for it. Hopefully some of you are still with me! I miss you guys so much! I hope you enjoy this. It was a challenge for us writers to get into Daryl's head after Merle's death. To examine him in a different way and that was right up my alley! We already know that he has a penis. That has been established. It's getting to the point where it seems like, to a lot of writers, that is the only purpose he serves. I really hate that. There is a lot more to them than their genitals. There should be more to a story than them fucking. It's frustrating to anyone that gives a damn about the actual characters to see them being used for nothing but sex. You can call me a prude and say that I'm wrong but those of you that know me know that I'll argue ;) It's one of the reasons you love me. I hope so anyway. lol I'm posting for The Runaways too. I wouldn't leave you hanging on that one. I hope you enjoy this. Much love to all of you and thank you so much for giving this a shot even though it has no dicks in it =) **

**Blood**

It was dark when the prison fence came into view. He wasn't sure how long it had taken him to get there because time meant very little anymore. He may have fought off walkers on his trip back. He may have simply gotten lucky and not ran in to any of them. He doubted the latter. Everything was a blur. The muscles in his legs burned but he kept going, he was welcoming the physical pain, secretly wishing for more. The prison had been his destination but he was beginning to wish he had gone in the other direction. These people weren't his family. These people weren't his blood.

He stumbled, his legs giving out about ten feet from the gate. There was no one there to man it and he remembered that most of them would think he was a walker anyway. As soon as the word crossed his mind he heard footsteps approaching from behind. Not footsteps really but the shambling gate of a walker. He pushed himself up off the ground, knife in hand and, ignoring the pain in his legs, ran towards the offending monster. For a few fleeting moments he toyed with the idea of letting it bite him.

_Get your shit together baby brother. _

The sound of Merle's voice, so clear in his head, had a sob erupting from his throat but he listened to that raspy voice. He raised the knife and slammed it into the soft flesh under the walkers chin, shoving up with every ounce of energy he had left. Looking right into the dead eyes of the walker he was filled with a rage so intense that it shocked him. He growled, hate dripping off the sound, thick and vengeful. He let go of the hilt, leaving the blade wedged inside of the things flesh and then shoved it to the ground with both hands. He landed on top of it, a stream of broken curses and grunts leaving his lips. Finally yanking the knife free he slammed it into the putrid face so hard that the blade made a metallic sound off of the concrete under it.

_It's over boy. Get your ass inside that fence._

He looked down into the face of the walker but all he could see was his brother's face. His brother's face to go with his brother's words. He stumbled away from the body and ran headlong for the fence. He needed to get inside before he gave in and gave up.

He threw himself into the fence and shook it violently just as thunder crashed overhead. Until he heard footsteps running towards him he hadn't realized that someone was there. Someone must have been waiting for him. He didn't even see who it was that pushed the gate open. He hurried through it, keeping his head down. He saw lightning flash, lighting up the yard in his peripheral vision. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and he threw it off, spinning around violently.

_Officer friendly. Nice enough to send your only kin off on a suicide mission because he didn't have the balls to do it himself. It all panned out just how he wanted it too, huh baby brother? Ol' Merle can't get in his way of makin' you his bitch no more._

Rick put his hands up. "What happened?" He asked, sounding concerned.

Daryl felt that endless rage surge up in him once more. Rick did this. He left Merle on that rooftop in Atlanta. Demanded that he leave Merle for him after Woodbury. Sent him out to die today because, in the end, Shane was right. Rick couldn't make the hard decisions. It was easier for him to hide in the tombs like a scared rat. Easier for him to leave the group in charge of keeping his baby alive. Easier for him to send Merle out there to deal with the Governor instead of doing it himself and yet... he called himself their leader. Daryl watched as Rick's eyes widened, like he had spoken the words that had ran through his mind. He may have. The ex-sheriff looked stunned enough.

"Leave me be," Daryl ground out from between clenched teeth. If Rick touched him again, he would kill him. He would shoot him the way the Governor had shot his brother. Rick should be the one lying cold now. Not Merle.

Rick nodded and took a step back as Daryl turned and hurried around the side of the prison. He couldn't stand the thought of going in there. He couldn't deal with the eyes he knew would be on him. All knowing. None of them gave a damn about one dead racist redneck. Rick certainly didn't. He put his back to the brick wall when a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him, nearly driving him to his knees. His back slid down the rough brick and his breath seemed to catch in his throat. As the anger faded away it didn't leave him empty. The hole was quickly replace by pain so intense he had to close his eyes against it. It wasn't like before. This wasn't like Atlanta. Back then he had known, deep down, that his brother was out there. Him and Merle, they had a special kind of bond that was born from pain and terror. He would have felt the loss deep inside if his brother had died. Just like he did now.

He had heard people say that losing someone you loved was like losing a part of yourself. Him and Merle always scoffed at sentimental shit like that. But Daryl didn't scoff right now. Now he knew that it was true. All his life he had had his brother. Those years that Merle had gone off to join the service had been the worst of his life. But Merle had come back for him, the way he always did. After that it had been just the two of them. No one else mattered. But that was then. Merle wasn't coming back for him now and he never in his life felt more alone. Merle was gone for good and now he had to deal with that the way Merle would want him too.

He wasn't aware that it was raining until he finally opened his eyes. It didn't feel cleansing like rain usually did. It made his skin feel oily, like it was tainted. He put his hands in front of his face and saw the blood there. It was long dried but the rain was causing it to flow once more. Panic surged up inside him. The blood on his hands belonged to Merle. Merle was gone. The blood was the last thing he had left of him. If the blood was gone then Merle was gone. The last link to his brother, washing away like he had never existed at all. He wasn't getting enough air in his lungs as he watched the rain wash the blood away.

"Breath."

For a second he thought that maybe the voice was in his head, like his brother's voice had been, but suddenly someone was there. He could see them in his peripheral vision but he couldn't focus on anything but the blood on his hands and the pain twisting his insides. His chest felt too tight and black spots were dancing behind his eyes.

"Here." Suddenly there was a bottle of water in his face. He hadn't realized that his throat was on fire until he saw the bottle. With shaking fingers he took it and then felt a hand on his knee. He finally looked past the bottle and into a familiar set of eyes.

Carol was crouching down in front of him where he sat with his knees pulled up to his chest. He wanted to move away from her but he didn't have the energy anymore. Everything ached and his chest felt hollow. She didn't look at him with any sort of pity, which he appreciated but he couldn't deal with anyone right now. He needed to be alone. He needed to get himself under control. He opened his mouth to tell her to go away but nothing came out. His throat was too constricted and dry so he uncapped the water bottle and drank it down in long gulps. That proved to be a bad idea. As soon as the last drop hit his soured stomach he felt nausea roll through him. He shoved her out of the way, nearly knocking her down, and stood up. Leaning his shoulder against the rough brick for support he leaned down and threw up the meager contents of his stomach. Which was really nothing but the water that he had just drank.

Rain beat down on his back as he caught his breath, finally able to take in a little air. There was no wind that accompanied the deluge. Just a steady sheet of water. He finally stood up and put his back to the wall. He had expected to find himself alone with his thoughts but she was still standing there, watching him as he fell apart. Like he was some sort of sideshow freak to look at to keep the boredom away. He was about to tell her as much when suddenly her hand clamped down on his shoulder and she met his eyes fiercely. He was shocked enough to pause in his rage.

"People are gonna tell you that the pain will go away," she shook her head. "I care about you enough not to lie to you like that."

He blinked rainwater out of his eyes and watched her carefully. It was only then that he could think about anything other than the hurt inside. She'd lost everything too. She had lost the only person she had ever loved. She knew what he was feeling. She had always been good to him, regardless of her loss. Even when he went out of his way to make her hurt even more. He still felt guilty for that.

"The pain don't go away but somehow, you adjust to it. It won't feel like this forever. You get used to it. You make room for it and you accept it for what it is."

He had been expecting her to tell him that everything would be okay. He hadn't wanted to hear it because it would have been a lie.

"It's probably gonna take a lot of time for you to realize that you aren't alone. Just try not to pull too far away, okay? And try not to place too much blame on everyone else." She tilted her head to the side, waiting for him to respond. The only thing he could offer her was a nod. The corner of her mouth pulled up in a wobbly smile. He envied it.

He waited for her to walk away but she didn't. She shifted until she was standing next to him, only a few inches away. His breathing was more steady and his hands shook less. He held them up but they were clean now. All traces of what he had done to his brother were washed clean. The only proof that he had put him down at all was the memory of it in his head. No one else to share that horror with. She reached over and pushed his hands back down but didn't even look at him.

He wasn't sure how long they had stood there, the rain soaking them both to the bone. His heart was still heavy and raw with emotion but it wasn't crushing him anymore. Other than the rain water, his eyes were dry.

"I'm gonna tell stories about Merle Dixon to anyone that may cross our path from here on out. Then he won't be forgotten. Maybe those people will tell others those stories. He was too colorful to go down without a great tale or two."

"Merle would just be the villain in any story you'd tell. No one appreciates the villain." His voice was rough, grating on his own ears like sandpaper. He had shocked himself by speaking at all.

"Every villain has a sweet side too, Daryl. Just a few days ago he said something to me that made my whole day. He didn't have to say it but, he felt the need to make me smile. That's a rare thing these days, you know."

He focused on the smile in her voice instead of the pain. He was finding it hard to believe that Merle had any sweet in him. "What'd he say?" He asked, genuinely curious.

She looked at him, her smile wide and her eyes dancing at the memory. "He came out when I was hanging some laundry and just stood there like some creep for a long time. I wasn't in the best of moods, especially after he showed up. Merle went out of his way to get to people. I finally asked him what the hell he wanted, in the loftiest voice I could muster, of course." She paused, her eyes taking on a faraway look.

"Well? What the hell did he say?"

She gave him a sideways look and then laughed, shaking her head. "He said," She cleared her throat and then she did the most horrible Merle impersonation that Daryl may have ever heard, "Darlin', I know you don't much like me, and I ain't much bothered by the fact. But you look a little down so I thought I would remind ya that, even tho your life don't add up to a bag of beans, you still got yourself one of the finest asses in the whole prison."

Daryl could picture his brother's face, saying exactly that. He felt the beginnings of a smile touch his face. That was definitely Merle.

"Then, since he was obviously in a very giving mood, he goosed me on his way by," she said dryly. "But really, it felt good to get a compliment like that from someone as suave as Merle, God knows he's seen his fair share of the female anatomy."

He laughed. The sound was odd and came out sounding a little tortured but it was there all the same. "That sounds like Merle," he half whispered as he looked down, once again, at his clean hands. The realization that someone acknowledged his brother for being more than what he let on was a good feeling. Merle was a bad guy and he always had been. But at the end of the day, he was still someone that wasn't as bad as he let on. He hid it well but Merle loved him. He always had. He had had a hell of a way of showing it, but there wasn't anyone more important to Merle than his little brother.

"He sacrificed himself to save us, Daryl. For all his faults, and there were plenty, he went out a hero."

"He didn't give a damn about the rest of you. The only person he died for was me," he said without looking up.

"Still a hero." He looked at her then. She patted his arm and then pushed herself away from the wall. She glanced over her shoulder when she was about five feet away. "If it'll make you feel any better, in memory of Merle, of course, you have my permission to check out my ass while I walk away. I won't say a word."

He snorted and shook his head, her quiet laugh ringing through his ears as his face burned slightly. Once she was out of site he looked out across the dark yard, shoving his hands into the pockets of his filthy pants. His mind was clear of all the anger he had been feeling before. There were still people here that cared about him, and not just because he was an asset. They cared because he was a friend. He would never forget the real reason Merle went out there. He still felt betrayed by Rick and he would probably harbor those feelings for a long time. But maybe, with time, he would learn how to shut out the pain and he could keep going. This world didn't give a person much time to mourn their dead. He would have no choice but to keep moving on. And maybe someday, he would meet someone new and he could summon up some of the good memories of his brother and pass the stories on like Carol said. The thought took away just a little bit of the pain.

Merle Dixon left this world a hero. Sacrificing himself so his baby brother could have a chance. Daryl smiled through the hurt as he rolled the words around in his mind.

_Ain't been dead a day and already you're standing out in the rain like a damn idiot. Get your stupid ass inside, numb nuts! I didn't die so you could catch yourself a cold._

He pushed himself away from the wall and rolled his eyes. "It's true. No matter what happens, you'll never be able to shut the hell up."

_Not a chance, baby brother._


End file.
